Trouble
by Broadway1
Summary: One day Spot decides to let a new girl into the Brooklyn Lodging House, but will she end up being to much trouble for even Spot to handle?
1. The New Girl

                                                            Chapter 1

            'It'll sure be nice ta get home.' Spot Conlon thought to himself as he walked towards the Brooklyn lodging house.  'All I wanna do is lie down in me bunk and go ta sleep.'  Spot had had a rough day of selling newspapers, there were no good headlines and no one seemed to want to buy the ones he was making up.  He slowly walked inside the lodging house and headed up to the bunkroom.  "What's goin' on?" Spot commanded.

            "Well we'se got a new goil.  She wants ta be a newsie." Tracker, Spot's best friend, explained.

            "Where is she?" Spot asked in a harsh voice.  He wasn't in the mood to be dealing with newbies, especially girl newbies that night.

            "Oveh there…" Tracker pointed out.  "She's da one who looks real small and meek."

            Spot looked over to where Tracker had pointed.  Sure enough there was a tiny girl sitting on Spot's bunk.  She had mousy brown hair and blue-green eyes.  She didn't look like she could weigh anymore then 90 lbs.

            "Whatdya mean by looks small and meek?" Spot questioned.

            "What I mean is, before ya got 'ere Micky made a crack about 'er bein' a goil newsie and she took 'im out!  Dat goil was powerful!  Micky's still in da bathroom tryin ta get 'is nose ta stop bleedin'!" Tracker exclaimed.

            "That goil beat up Micky?  Micky one of my toughest fightehs?  Are you sure you weren't dreamin'?" Spot laughed trying to picture this girl beating up Micky.

            "True every woid of it!  Ask anyone else in 'ere!" Tracker told him.  Spot shook his head and walked over to the new girl.

            "What's your name?" Spot asked her sternly.

            "Bridget.  What's yours?" She asked back.  Spot looked at her in surprise.  Everyone, newsie or not, knew his name in Brooklyn.

            "Spot Conlon.  So ya wanna join me newsies?" He asked her suspiciously.

            "Yeah, ya gotta problem wit dat?" Bridget asked sarcastically.

            "No, just as long as ya stay undeh me rule and me territory and outta me way." Spot told her.

            "Fine, just show me where ta get my papes in da morning and I'll be fine." Bridget told him flowing with confidence.

            "You eveh sold papes before?" Spot asked her.

            "No, but it don't look like it's hard ta do.  I mean there are seven year olds out dere sellin' papes."

            "Well it is tough and do you'se 'ill hafta shadow one of da oudder newsies for da next week until dey report ta me dat ya know what you'se doin', cuz if you'se from Brooklyn you'se gotta be tough and mean and keep me reputation good.  Ya got dat?" Spot told her in a no nonsense sort of voice.

            "Fine." She said a bit unhappily.

            "Now get outta me bed and go ta sleep." Spot commanded.

            "Where am I suppose ta sleep den?" Bridget asked innocently.  Spot looked around the room.  All of the bunks were actually full, except the top bunk to his bed and the bottom bunk of Micky's bed.  

            "On da top bunk of dis bed." Spot told her.  He narrowed his eyes at her in unhappiness.  He didn't really want any one sleeping on his top bunk but he didn't figure putting her with Micky would be a good thing, if she really did beat him up.  Spot then stripped down to his underwear and sat on his bed watching the other newsies.  A minute late Micky walked out of the bathroom and his nose looked like it had been broken.

            'Damn, that little girl sure has a big punch…' Spot thought to himself.  "LIGHTS OUT!" Spot yelled.  Quickly all of the newsies hopped into their bunks and Spot went around and blew out the candles and then slipped into his own bunk, hoping the next day would be a better selling day for him.


	2. Sassy

                                                                                                Chapter 2

            "Ok, who wants ta show Bridget how ta sell?" Spot asked the newsies the next morning, as they stood in line waiting for their papes.  No one answered.  "I SAID who wants ta show 'er how ta sell?"  Spot said harshly.  Once again no one answered.  Spot could feel his blood pressure rising.  "TRACKER!  You'se take 'er dis mornin' and I'll come wit ya." Spot shouted.  Tracker looked at Spot in sheer mortification.           

            "Fifty papes." Tracker said softly as he approached the distribution window.  He got his papers and sat down, looking at the headlines.      

            "Hundred papes." Spot commanded, grabbing his papes form the window.  

            "How many papes should I get?" Bridget asked Spot, calmly.

            "I'd say 'bout twenty since you ain't eveh done dis before." Spot told her.  

            "Fifty papes please." Bridget told the man.

            "I said twenty." Spot glared, his eyes turning gray and cold.

            "Well I'se got fifty." Bridget responded, cockily.

            "Come on Spot, let's go.  I'se gotta sell all of dese taday." Tracker complained.  

            "Bridget, you'se comin' wit me an' Tracker taday, keep up and watch what we'se doin'." Spot ordered.  He and Tracker then started towards the docks with Bridget following blindly behind them.  Once they reached the docks the started shouting out headlines, and showed Bridget how to turn a bad headline into a good one.  

            "So where'd ya come from anyways?" Tracker asked, curious as to how the girl knew how to fight.

            "Somewhere…" She mused.  Tracker gave her an annoyed look, which she ignored.  

            "Where'd ya learn ta fight?" Spot asked.

            "Why?  Afraid I can beat ya?" Bridget smirked.  Tracker nearly fell on the ground laughing.  "What's so funny?"

            "You actually tink dat ya can beat Spot Conlon?  Are ya nuts?" Tracker said in between bursts of laughter.

            "I'se don't lose when I fight." She said tauntingly.

            "Nietheh do I." Spot stated, as he sold his last paper.

            "Damn!  How'd ya sell all dose dat fast?" Bridget said in awe.

            "Talent." Spot remarked.  Tracker once again began to laugh, until Bridget hit him in the arm.

            "OW!" He shrieked in pain.  "What'd ya do dat for?"

            "You'se was getting' on me nerves." Bridget replied nonchalantly.  This time Spot smirked.

            "Sassy, I like dat kid." Spot observed.


	3. Make Nice

                                                                        Chapter 3

            After another hour, Spot became sick of waiting for Bridget to sell her papes.  He had finished an hour ago and Tracker had finished about a half an hour after that.  

            "How many do ya got left?" Spot asked Bridget.

            "About 30…" Bridget told him quickly counting her papers.

            "See dat's why Spot told ya to get 20!" Tracker said, rolling his eyes.

            "Here, give me some of dem papes." Spot commanded.  She gave him half and he quickly sold them, and waited impatiently for her to sell her last two.  "From now on, you take how many I say ta talk!"

            "Fine!" Bridget said in a mimicking voice.  She rolled her eyes.

            "Come on Spot, let's go get lunch." Tracker said purposely-leaving Bridget out.  "How about the Cupboard?" Tracker suggested.  (The Tibby's of Brooklyn).

            "That's fine… go on, I'll be there in a minute." Spot told him.  Tracker started off.  Spot turned toward Bridget, who gave him a blank stare.  "Listen kid, you'se gotta stop contradicting me if you'se wanna stay in Brooklyn.  You need ta learn your place here.  Cuz if you'se are dis rude ta everyone you'se ain't gonna make any friends 'ere."  Spot told her.  Bridget looked at him in shock.  She then turned and stalked off in the other direction.  Spot then headed over to the Cupboard.

            "What'd you say ta her?" Tracker asked when Spot came in, with obvious dismay on his face.  

            "Don't worry 'bout it Tracker."  Spot told him and then they ordered and ate an early lunch.

            After lunch Spot headed back to the L.H. since he had a few hours to kill before the afternoon edition came out.  He walked over to his bunk and noticed that Bridget was lying under the sheet on her bed.  Spot lied down on his bunk beneath hers.  He noticed the bunk was shaking a bit.  Spot sighed loudly and the bunk stopped shaking instantly.

            "Who's there?" Bridget asked meekly.

            "Just Spot." He told her.  "Is something wrong?"  He asked feeling generous.

            "Why do you care?" She asked hastily.

            "Cuz yous'e in MY newsies and I try ta help my newsies as much as I can." Spot told her.  Bridget slid over far enough so that she could see Spot on his bunk.

            "I don't know two make friends…" Bridget said softly.

            "What?" Spot asked.

            "I never have and to make friends, just stick up for myself, so I don't know how ta make friends."  Bridget explained.

            "Well, first off ya hafta be nice ta people, and don't' just go beatin' 'em up cuz dey make fun of ya for bein' a goil." Spot said.

            "You're not nice to people." Bridget pointed out.  Spot didn't know what to say back to that.


	4. Truth

                                                                                    Chapter 4

            Later that night Spot was still thinking about what Bridget had told him.

            "Spot why is you'se bein' so quiet?" Tracker asked him during dinner.

            "No reason.  Do you tink I'm nice ta people?" Spot asked.  Tracker gave him an unsure look.

            "Um… you'se are nice ta me." Tracker pointed out.

            Spot sighed, he knew he wasn't nice to people.  In fact, that's why HE didn't have that many friends.  That's why he was respected, not necessarily liked.  After dinner Spot returned to the L.H. where he found Bridget packing her things.

            "What are ya doin'?" Spot asked her.

            "What does it look like?  I'se leavin'." Bridget told him.

            "Why?" Spot asked her.

            "Um… I don't like it 'ere." Bridget lied.

            "Where will ya go?" Spot inquired.

            "Da streets.  Dat's where I'm from anyway." Bridget shrugged.

            "Stay."

            "No."

            "You'se got nuttin out dere." Spot pointed out.

            "I'se got nuttin 'ere eidder." Bridget reminded him.

            "Neidder did I when I foist got 'ere."  Bridget looked up.  Spot noticed her green-blue eyes were blood shot and she had tears stains on her face.  "Stay.  You'll fit in soon.  No one knows ya yet."

            "I'se won't eveh fit in.  I'se not nice ta people."

            "Neidder am I." Spot told her.

            "I know dat."

            "I'se have friends." Spot told her.  "I fit in."

            "No you'se don't, you'se neveh will eidder.  You rule everyone, they respect you, dey don't like you though.  Dey think you'se are heartless, cruel and all da goils tink you'se are a tease.  You'll never settle down.  You'll never have any real friends.  You let you're tempeh control you'se life." Bridget said harshly.

            "Ouch." Spot said out loud.  He knew what she spoke was true, but he had never wanted to admit it to himself.  

            "I'se sorry.  I shouldn't have said dat.  Are yous'e ok?  You're face looks pale all da sudden." 

            "No, it's true.  I'm a misfit just like you.  So stay.  I'se need anotheh misfit here wit me." Spot explained to her.

            "Fine, I'll stay."

            "Why?" Spot asked.

            "Because I like ya.  You'se ain't fake like everyone else.  You'se say what you'se are tinkin' and feelin'." Bridget explained.  Spot walked over to her, he started taking her things out of her bag and putting them back where they were.  "Tanks."

            "Are ya still cryin'?" Spot asked her.

            "No, I'se ok now.  So how do ya get a newsie name in dis joint?" Bridget asked.

            "'Round here someone has to give it to ya." Spot explained. "Truth.  Dat's yous'e newsie name, but I'se gonna call ya Bridge."

            "Truth, I like dat." Truth smiled.  Spot noticed how beautiful her smile was.


	5. Dinner

                                                                        Chapter 5

            "Hey Spot!  You'se gonna sell da evenin' edition?" Tracker shouted as he ran up the stairs in the L.H.

            "Yeah I'se on me way.  Ya wanna come Bridge?" Spot asked.

            "Sure." She smiled.

            "Bridge?" Tracker asked curiously.

            "Truth ta you, only I'se can call 'er Bridge." Spot told him.

            "Ok… Truth it is." Tracker shrugged. "Hey Mickey!" Tracker called to Mickey who wasn't to far ahead of them.

            "Do ya wanna sell wit me tonight Track?" Mickey asked.

            "Sure!" Tracker said running to catch up with him.

            "So, how many papes should I get?" Truth asked Spot.

            "15." Spot told her as they approached the D.O.

            "But… this morning you told me to get 20 and now you'se tellin' me ta get 15, I'se don't understand."  Truth whined.

            "Evenin' edition don't sell as well as da morning and aftehnoon editions." Spot told her.

            "Oh…ok." So Truth bought her 15 papers and sold all of them about the time Spot finished his 75 papes.

            "I'm so tired!  I neveh knew sellin' papes was so hard!" Truth exclaimed.

            "I'm kinda tired, but I ain't too bad yet." Spot told her.

            "I'm hungry too!" Truth told him.

            "Well Bridge, what have ya had to eat taday?" Spot asked.

            "Nothin'.  I'se don't eat much, plus I ain't gots money to eat wit."

            "Well I'se hungry but I won't eat a whole plate of food, so you'se can have some of mine." Spot told her as they headed to The Cupboard.

            "Tanks Spot." Truth smiled.  She'd never had anyone be so nice to her in her whole life.

A/N- Sorry this chapter is short but I have a new story I'm itching to write and I just can't concentrate on this chapter.


End file.
